


Imprints

by relic_amaranth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relic_amaranth/pseuds/relic_amaranth
Summary: You and Balthazar make a pit stop on a long drive to have some fun in the snow. Well, you do. Balthazar needs some convincing. Luckily, he has you.





	Imprints

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas season fluff. Cross-posted from Tumblr.

“ _Why_ have we stopped again?”

“Because snow!” You shake out your pants. “And because I needed to stretch my legs.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes and lets out maybe the most long-suffering sigh you’ve heard to date. Even more than that one time you told him sneaking up on that rugaru would be a ‘breeze’ and he’d immediately had to yank you out of biting range. So maybe not all your genius plans are…genius…but this one is. You’re both going on vacation, which was mostly his idea, to a cabin in the snowy woods, which had been yours, and you’re determined to give him the full experience. That means driving there and taking a break to play at the first sign of snow.

Balthazar hasn’t really embraced the idea, even though the car you’ve rented is really nice, and he already put you off stopping for the first snow by critiquing that it had been too slushy and “disgusting” to do anything with. That tactic may have worked for a few miles but now you’re in an area with pine trees and it’s white as far as you can see.

Balthazar has his arms folded and is grumbling about the cold. Seriously; what a baby. He’s an _angel_ – cold shouldn’t (normally doesn’t) bother him this much.

Suddenly you feel struck by genius. He’s an _angel_.

Balthazar is too busy grumbling to himself (complaining just loud enough for you to hear) to pay much attention to you as you run over to pick up a large stick. You trace a design in the snow until he rolls his eyes, huffs, and turns away, and then you eye the snow-covered branch he’s standing under.

With a quick jump you hit the over-burdened tree limb and a pile of snow falls right onto Balthazar’s head. He stops, blinks, and you’ve never seen him so bewildered. Or covered in snow fluff.

You laugh so hard your stomach aches, even when he turns to look at you. But he doesn’t roll his eyes or make a snarky comment. He just stares. You point at him, hoping he’ll get it. He doesn’t. When you can finally breathe enough to speak, you say, “Snow angel!” and then bend over laughing at your own joke.

Balthazar is not amused. Far from it, actually, judging by his sour scowl. You think maybe you’ve gone a bit overboard with the laughter and you start to come down, ready to apologize, but as soon as you stand straight a snowball comes from nowhere and smacks you _right_ in the face.

You blink and start to glance around, but Balthazar is _grinning_. Your mouth drops open but all you manage to sputter is– “Cheater!”

“All’s fair in love and war,” he says with a wink.

You smirk. “I don’t exactly take that lying down in the bedroom either.”

“You don’t?”

You bend down to hastily pack a snowball into your hands and when you come back up he’s gone. The area you’ve stopped off in is incredibly quiet and with Balthazar gone ghost you can only occasionally hear a car driving down the main road.

You dodge another snowball to the head and quickly throw yours in that direction. It hits something and you hear Balthazar mutter angrily. You grin.

Game on.

 

“It’s _cold_.”

“You can warm up in an instant if you want to,” you say and start moving your arms and legs for the last thing on your mental checklist. Once the snow is thoroughly packed you get up and admire your snow angel.

“That doesn’t look a thing like an angel,” Balthazar says.

You roll your eyes and look at him. He’s damp and ruffled but still looks haughty as ever. “Well then, snow angel,” you say, mocking low seduction to his sharp glare, “–Show me how it’s done.”

“Fine,” he says and looks around for a few moments before going to an undisturbed spot. He somehow gracefully manages to fall back into the powder and he lays there for a moment, legs slightly parted and hands clasped over his stomach. You wonder if you’ll have to remind him how to do it but then the snow from his shoulders starts to depress from an unseen weight and you stare, open-mouthed, as an imprint of real, actual angel wings forms in the snow.

When he’s done Balthazar gets himself out without pressing his hands anywhere not already pressed down, hops out, and stands to admire his project.

“Oh,” you say, unable to turn your eyes away from the impressive wingspan. You can only imagine how beautiful he looks. “Now _that_ is a snow angel.”

“I don’t know.” Balthazar comes to stand next to you, in front of your snow angel. “I’m quite fond of this one. …Though I’m not quite sure how those wings are supposed to work. Like a hummingbird, perhaps?”

“Or a penguin,” you say and flap your arms, taking a moment to grin at the angel next to you. He smiles in return and you soak in the quick flash of fondness he never consciously shows. It makes it more special that way– rarer, certainly, since you have to catch him in those moments, but he never allows himself any sort of weakness. None but you. “I’m a flightless angel.”

His lips turn just slightly and he comes forward, grabbing you by the beltloops and pulling you closer. "A shame; you need to be able to fly. I suppose you'll need me then."

"Always," you say and kiss him.

 

You get back on the road and Balthazar, completely dry already, sits calmly in his seat as the scenery passes you by. He puts his hand on your thigh and when he starts humming along to some Christmas song on the radio you relax into the feeling that your angel is close by, healthy and hale and in one piece.

“Are we there yet?”

Hopefully he stays that way by the time you reach your destination.


End file.
